The Poorly Built Sandcastle
by Pennatus
Summary: Orphen x Majic. Love may be a beacon, burning bright, but all it was doing to Orphen was burning up his logic and sanity and making him want to scream his feelings to those around him and not hold it inside, feeling its intensity eating away at him.


Er…not much to say. Just really wanted to post something, plus I think the Orphen x Majic fanbase needs a little more love, no?

Oh, and dashes (like /blah/) indicate thoughts.

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEWS!**

Disclaimer: I do not own Orphen, nor do I want any profit from this.

Panting, Orphen let his head fall back against the tree he was sitting in front of. The night was cool and he shivered as a light breeze brushed across his heated skin. Quickly he composed himself, standing and slipping back into his clothing, well used to his nightly excursions by now.

For a few minutes he simply stood, leaning against the tree and listening to the empty sounds of the night.

He shouldn't be doing this.

Every time the same thought crossed his mind, leaving behind a wave of regret and guilt that could not be scourged from his mind no matter how hard he tried. Yet here he was, his back scratched from arching against the tree and his lips bleeding from where he had bit them to stop any moans from escaping his throat. He would heal them in a moment, to erase all evidence, but for now he let the blood coat his mouth with its metallic taste, the taste of defeat and victory mixed into one crimson liquid.

His mind turned once again to his actions. How long would he continue to do this? It would not, he knew, continue forever. Whether he would be discovered or he himself would finally reveal the secret, it didn't matter. Something would happen, something that would shatter this carefully constructed lie that all three of them had eagerly contributed to.

Then what would he do? Would he continue traveling? Would he go into isolation? Would the three keep it a secret, or would he be forced to hide from the prying and accusing eyes of a non-accepting society?

And what would Majic think of him…?

Orphan shook his head to rid his mind of such dark thoughts. He knew he was being cowardly by avoiding his problems instead of confronting them, but he couldn't bring himself to break what little happiness he had by revealing the truth.

/Ignorance is bliss,/ he thought wryly.

Wincing slightly at the sting of his bleeding lips, Orphen healed himself, the gentle blue glow throwing the trees around him into sharp relief, before shoving his hands into his pockets and striding back to their makeshift camp.

/With my luck, I'll probably fall into quicksand on my way back./ But he arrived safely, the camp and its inhabitants sleeping peacefully where he had left them and the dying embers of the fire attempting to push back the enveloping darkness of the night.

He settled cross-legged on the ground, unwilling just yet to succumb to the needs of sleep. His eyes tried to linger on the horizon but he found them being pulled, inexorably, to the sandy haired boy lying innocently on his side, eyes closed and breathing slow and steady. Orphan cursed his own weakness even as he studied each and every minute detail of his apprentice's face. There was a slight smudge of dirt on his left cheek, where the 17-year-old had absently rubbed his cheek during a yawn. Other than that his face was perfect, flawless, carved by Majic's fellow angels.

Orphan sighed, a heavy sound laced with sorrow and unlike any sound the usual Orphen made. Studying Majic intently, Orphen's mind delved into the past. He attempted to identify a certain day or event that this whole thing had begun, but it was impossible. This feeling had developed over many days, turning from care for his apprentice to an intense, incomprehensible affection. At first it had confused him, but soon enough Orphen had figured out what he was feeling. He wished that he was still ignorant about his emotion, but it was impossible to turn back time, as he knew so very well.

Orphan shrugged off such misgivings, but they did not leave him that easily. Whatever solution he finally came up with could not, _would_ not, involve Majic himself. He knew the basic reasons for this conclusion. He would not allow society to turn their hateful eyes on his beautiful apprentice and see only the ugliness they wanted to see. Some people would accept his love for another man, but many, many more would not. Whatever action he finally carried out and however it affected him, he would not condemn Majic in any way, shape, or form.

Nor would he force his feelings. Majic only thought of him as a teacher looking out for his student, and if he didn't wish for anything more then that, then Orphen wouldn't give it to him.

But there was one reason that wasn't so basic and was so selfish that Orphen rarely incorporated it into these little self-pity talks with himself. Today, or rather tonight, he was feeling particularly melancholy, so his mind automatically supplied it.

He was afraid of rejection.

It may have been stupid, selfish, weak, and most of all pusillanimous, but it almost topped his list. He wasn't entirely sure if this reaction was normal, but he doubted it was – the thousands of children populating the Earth was proof that a large majority of people were brave enough to suck up their fears and speak.

He could handle Dortin and his brother and their stupid plots for money, he could handle mutant mice and golems and wolfens and Cleo with her damn shopping and even his closest friend and idol going power hungry and turning into a dragon –but bring love into the equation and he crumbled like a poorly built sandcastle.

Is this what love is? Sneaking, lingering glances, a heat and tightness throughout his body that he could never satisfy, and a desperate, aching longing that only intensified on these lonely nights? If so, Orphen wished he had never come to know the feeling, wished it would take its clutches off of him and move on to another, more gullible candidate that could accept it and flaunt it and bring it to bear like it was supposed to be. Love may be a beacon, burning bright, but all it was doing to Orphen was burning up his logic and sanity and making him want to scream his feelings to those around him and not hold it inside, feeling its intensity slowly eating away at him until he was no more.

All his thoughts and agony danced through his mind in a mad dance, and through it all Orphen continued to stare at Majic, letting the 17-year-old boy be his anchor in the chaotic sea of his musings.

That's right…Majic. His pleasure, his torture, his love.

At this moment, the future did not matter. At this moment, the horrors of his mind could wait until another lonely night. At this moment, there was only Orphen, stupid and foolish and weak, and Majic, flawless and perfect and gorgeous, and his insatiable need for the teal-eyed boy. For now, he could pretend the world and all its harshness didn't exist. He leaned forward, and with the gentlest of touches ran his fingers down his apprentice's jaw line. Majic shifted slightly, rolling towards the caressing touch, but otherwise did not stir or awaken. Orphan pulled back, knowing even that touch had pushed the fragile boundary he had set, and laid on the ground. He would try to sleep with what little time there was left. Closing his eyes, Orphen let the image of the sleeping Majic linger like a delicious taste in his mind's eyes.

At this captured moment, he was content.


End file.
